


Taking The Long Way Around

by isuilde



Category: Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger
Genre: (and now they have kids), (probably more hurt than comfort idek), 100 Years After Fix-It fic, F/M, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, as in everyone who gets married does get married but endgame ships are still as stated above, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: In the face of the responsibility thrusted upon them by the accidental discovery about the future, they somehow take the long way around their happy ending.Probably too long.(or, that one time where the Kyouryuugers aren't brave enough and contracts unhappiness as a result.It gets better though.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the embodiment of the power of procrastination.
> 
> (Look, sometimes I have a compulsion of trying to figure out how canon would work with my ships. Most of the time it blows up. This is one of them.)
> 
> Before you begin:  
> 1\. For convenience reasons, let's pretend that they all found out about who Daigo is supposed to marry in the future.  
> 2\. This fic exists to try to figure out how King/Ucchii and Ian/Souji would work out in order to get to the 100 Years After canon. It does make it seem like it's dismissive of their roles as parents to their children, as I wrote basically zero portrayal of their interactions with their kids or even them thinking about their kids, but that's honestly because I don't have the energy trying to incorporate children-parents relationship into this fic. If this is the sort of thing that might bother you, please proceed with caution.
> 
> Hopefully you'd enjoy! (And unlike someone, not cry over this shit lolololol)

To Ian Yorkland, the end of their relationship begins with the accidental arrival of Daigo's descendant--wide-eyed with both amazement and inexperience, unaware of the changes he brings to the past that is their present--the fight he brings, and the last hopeful smile he gives them before he goes back to the future.

To Rippuukan Souji, however, the end of his first, almost fairy tale-like relationship begins with Ian avoiding his eyes after a kiss, the thin line of his lips, and the fake, empty laugh that slips out when he says, "I wonder what your bride would be like."

They're both smart people. Ian might have realized it sooner--the implication of having their descendants forming a Kyouryuuger team protecting the world in the future--but Souji certainly doesn't need more than a hint to understand.

He wants to say _Don't be dumb, Ian._ Wants to say _This doesn't change anything_. Wants to say _I don't want that future_ , and _I never wished for this_. But he knows, the second he understands, that he's never going to say it.

So instead he leans forward to kiss Ian again, silent in acknowledgment of their end, and remembers Ian's bitter chuckle against his lips.

**\-----o0o-----**

Utsusemimaru, in his own fit of hesitance and reluctance to let go, asks him, "Are you going to accept this?"

Ian's answer is pragmatic: "Do we have a choice?"

Amy is the one grieving. She's never been a Princess--she's only raised like one and expected to be one--so Ian is actually surprised at first. But then again, Ian thinks, Amy also grew up with Princess-like tales and reads shoujo manga where love always prevails in the end, things that whisper to her about happily ever after and happy endings and where is theirs, when all the battles and pain have ended? Or perhaps it's just her rebellious nature speaking, because Amy doesn't play by the rules--"shouldn't we be the ones to decide our future," is how she argues, "shouldn't we be the ones choosing?"--and Ian admires her for that, for her courage to even question what is supposed to be absolute.

Daigo looks at Utsusemimaru and Amy with uncertainty, then to the rows and rows of Zyudenchi charging in the corner of the Spirit Base, and it's disconcerting, to see how lost his gaze is.

And Souji, young and still blindly trying to feel his way into adulthood, caught in-between responsibility and too-young dreams, too intertwined with half-baked adults that make up their team, and Ian wonders if this is where they stand wrong in the first place.

**\-----o0o-----**

Yayoi confesses to Daigo with a brittle smile and plip-plop tears over her cheeks, and tells him, "I can't possibly win against the future."

Utsusemimaru overhears the whole thing. He leaves, disappears for two weeks, and it's Amy who yells at them--disjointed words making up protests and broken wishes and "I love you, King, and I love Ucchii and every one of this team and why can't we just be happy?!"--and she cries pitter-patter tears, too. Souji watches her with wide eyes, half-bewildered and half-scared, but he can't stop himself from glancing at where Ian is standing, and he sort of hates himself for that.

Daigo stays silent, much like when Minityra goes on a rant for his recklessness of the day, except he looks sad instead of sheepish. None of them could stand looking at him like that, and Souji had been the first to leave the Spirit Base because seeing their King with broken eyes is more painful than having the Dino Hope ripped out of them.

 _I can't possibly win against the future_ , Yayoi says, and Souji wants to hate Daigo's descendant for finding a path to their present.

  
**\-----o0o-----**

They set off to search for Utsusemimaru, but it's like he's vanished without a trace.

Yuuko grabs the back of Nobuharu's blue uniform jacket one evening when they all happen to be in the Spirit Base and hits him lightly on the head. "Go find her," she says sternly, and everyone knows she means Candelilla. "I have enough of you moping around the house. You haven't cracked any of your old man joke for the past week. Rika is getting weirded out."

Nobuharu opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "I can't," is what comes out of his mouth, the words hanging helplessly in the air, and Yuuko scowls.

"I thought we're all supposed to be brave," she says loudly, her frustration ringing in the corners of the stonewalls. "Is this being brave, then? Aren't all of you just giving up on the present?"

"Yuuko," Nobuharu hisses in warning, but the damage is done. Daigo stands up abruptly, face twisting, ignores Ian's sharp "King," and grabs his Gaburevolver from the table. "King!" Ian tries again, and he grabs his Gaburevolver too, feet quick behind Daigo as he follows him out of the base.

"What," Yuuko says defensively when all eyes in the Spirit Base turn towards her. "I'm just stating facts."

Nobuharu sighs. "Come on," he says, steers Yuuko to the platform and out of the base. That leaves only Souji and Amy behind--one absently fingering the bent page of a _Love Touch!_ volume, and the other blankly looking at his Japanese History homework.

"Souji-kun," Amy says--begins, really, but never finishes. The edge of the paper digs into her fingertip instead, drawing blood, and Amy winces and lets it be an excuse for the way her eyes burn.

Souji stares at his homework--blank paper except for the title of the essay he's supposed to write: the four blocky characters of _Sengoku Era_ \--and thinks of how empty the Spirit Base feels.

He wishes Torin was here.

**\-----o0o-----**

"It's not like you," Ian says, softer than the five o'clock coming-home song drifting from the public park's speaker.

There are kids waving each other good-byes, tiny feet against the pavement as they run this way and that, laughter and whines one after another without a care in the world. The shadows of the trees are lengthening almost threateningly, but the ground is dyed red-gold with the late evening sunrays, a mirror of the layers of colors splattered on the sky.

Daigo grins a grin he doesn't feel. "Right?"

_It's not like me._

He slips both his hands into his pants pocket and looks up, catching the last shadow of a crow flitting across a tree. He tries to remember if he's told Utsusemimaru how clever those creatures are--Utsusemimaru would look at him in both in curiosity and awe, perhaps comment if all things that are naturally black-colored are smart. Like Ian, he'd say with a laugh, and Daigo would just agree with a snicker.

Ian is smart. That's why he stands here, by Daigo's side, and doesn't ask anything.

"I don't know what to do," Daigo finally admits. "I feel like I'd end up hurting everyone, no matter what I choose."

To obey what the future says and choose Amy. Or to be selfish and keep the small happiness he's found in Utsusemimaru's hands and laughter, and be haunted forever by the last hopeful smile his descendant had given him before he vanished from their present.

He wonder if he could just be irresponsible and let Gabutyra decide for him.

Are they not the strong ones of the Dinosaurs? What would Torin say--?

_But he's no longer here._

"Do you think I made the right choice," Ian says, a vague questioning tone in his voice, but the words don't sound like a question.

Daigo laughs. "Beats me."

His chest twinges. He doesn't remember the last time it hurts so much.

**\-----o0o-----**

Gentle makes her a different tea. It tastes extremely bitter, and Amy makes a betrayed face at her Butler.

"That, Amy-sama," Gentle tells her with amused eyes. "Is the taste of being an adult."

Amy eyes him weirdly. "I thought that's coffee."

"Ah, but coffee doesn't suit Amy-sama." China cups clink daintily, the faint scent of herbs hanging in the air, and it's everything Amy knows of Gentle--of comfort and safety and _home_.

"Gentle," she starts, crosses her legs, and uncrosses them again when Gentle gives her a look. She flashes him an apologetic, sheepish grin, but then sobers up when Gentle sits properly by her side, a silent acknowledgment of her need for an advice.

"What if I don't get married?"

There's a split-second of pause, where Gentle's eyebrows lift just _so_ , like he doesn't believe her--not her words, just her--but then he clears his throat and says, "But Amy-sama doesn't want that."

And here's the thing: Amy could tell him that he's wrong. That she's capable enough to take care of herself, and who needs marriage anyway? She's going to be the heir of the family, she can kick anyone's ass just fine, and she knows how to try to behave properly in front of people as long as she's careful. What right does the future have, deciding that she's going to marry Daigo when her King is perfectly happy with Utsusemimaru and Amy loves both of them like a family?

Except she does want to get married. Because having a family--made or chosen or given--is the best feeling in the world, and she wants to be a parent to make up for all the times her parents hadn't been with her. Not with Daigo; not with the cost of his and Utsusemimaru's happiness, but she does want to have a family of her own.

"I just want everyone to be happy," she mutters, lips pursed, hands curling around the cup of tea. "And we are. We were. We don't need to change. We don't need to choose to change anything. But, but we have responsibilities, and--"

Gentle pats her hand lightly. He doesn't understand, Amy thinks, because Gentle has no idea about the dynamics of their sentai team aside from that they're all really good friends, or the burden of what the future needs them to do, but the eyes that meet hers are sympathetic.

"Your tea," he points out gently, "will get cold."

It's bitter. Almost unbearably so, to the point that Amy sheds tears over it.

Or perhaps Gentle is right: it's just adulthood.

**\-----o0o-----**

Daigo spends the morning checking out all possible rooftops in the direct vicinity of Tiger Boy and Rippuukan Dojo. He doesn't find Utsusemimaru, nor any hints on where he could have gone, but there's an envelope waiting for him on the table of the Spirit Base when he gets back.

It's not a letter. Instead, there are candy wrappers inside--Utsusemimaru's favorite brand, Daigo's favorite flavor--and Daigo finds a handdrawn lopsided smiley face on the inside of each wrapper.

His lips twist up in bittersweet smile.

What a way of telling them he's alright. Daigo wonders how much he really isn't, as he presses a kiss on the smiley face. The wrapper crinkles against his lips, and the faint scent of ginger orange clings to his nose.

It doesn't taste like Utsusemimaru's kisses.

**\-----o0o-----**

"Who knows," is what Nobuharu overhears Ian telling Amy, "maybe they'll be happy. Maybe you'll be happy. Maybe we'll all be happy, and that's why the future is the way it is. Maybe it's a different road to happiness."

He sounds like he's trying to convince himself. Nobuharu doesn't have the heart to point that out to him, though.

23 years-old is barely an adult, after all.

**\-----o0o-----**

Utsusemimaru mysteriously appears one morning in Rippuukan Dojo, dressed-up properly in white-and-black training hakama, crossing swords with Souji's father.

"Souji-dono," he calls, even as he parries Genryuu's firm slashes, "A match, if you'd please."

Souji complies. He sits in proper seiza until his father finishes the match--he's never sure if Utsusemimaru actually loses on purpose to his father or his father is really just better than an actual samurai from Sengoku era, but he digresses--and watches Utsusemimaru bows deeply to the older man. His father leaves with a pat on Souji's back, fleeting but firm, but that doesn't take Souji's attention from the way Utsusemimaru eyes him as he hands him a bouken.

"Ucchii," he begins hesitantly, but Utsusemimaru shakes his head.

"A match," he repeats, and it's only because Souji is holding the other end of the bouken that he feels the tremors of Utsusemimaru's hands. "If you'd please."

**\-----o0o-----**

When he finishes the call, Daigo is standing over by the pillar next to the platform of the Spirit Base.

"University?" he asks.

Ian smiles. "It's an idea."

"I thought you were going to get a job here and stay."

There's the slightest inflection of betrayal in Daigo's voice--one that Ian never imagines coming from him. Daigo is the only one other than him who knows the world, who's gone around different countries and, moreover, forge bonds with people who hold him in their hearts even if he's thousands of miles away. Daigo is King for many others, and the idea that he's bothered about one of his friends going away for a job is--unthinkable.

"That was the plan," Ian says slowly, calculates the way Daigo's lips curve down further. "I'm not--I don't think I can stay and watch him find happiness here. I'm not that strong."

Daigo sighs, one hand going up to go through his messy strands of hair, almost violently scratching his head in a gesture of frustration. "You're going to leave the team."

"Of course I won't." Ian frowns. "I'll come back if anyone needs me. We're a team. It doesn't change. You know that better than anyone, King."

Daigo's answer is a long groan. He crosses over the the stone table and takes a seat, slumping over like he's been fighting for thirty hours and has no more energy for anything. And maybe he doesn't--Ian knows Daigo's been looking for Utsusemimaru, knows that he doesn't want to make any decision without talking it out with Utsusemimaru first, and he envies them a little.

"Why did you choose to let go, Ian?"

He wishes he'd heard that from Souji instead.

"Because he's young," Ian answers. "And as much as I want to keep him, I--he has so much to learn, so much to discover still, and I just thought, maybe that's why the future works. Maybe there's a different kind of happiness for him if he's not with me. He's smart, too mature for his age, but he's so inexperienced and I don't want to keep him from exploring himself."

Daigo is silent for a good while, face half-buried into the crook of his arm, and his eyes are so painfully lost.

"And besides," Ian allows himself a bitter smile. "He's a responsible kid. Throwing away the future with such heavy stakes at hand--it's not something he could do. Even if he chose to go against it, he wouldn't be happy."

Because unlike him, Souji is responsible. Always has been, and maybe it's something that's inherent in all swordsmen: the sense of responsibility to the world, the inability to run away. Ian wonders if it's why Utsusemimaru chose to go, too.

Daigo probably thinks the same.

"Do you think he'll be happy?" A pause, then a shuddering breath. "Do you think I can make Amy happy?"

Ian stares at his own phone, because he can't look at his King like this.

"I don't know," he says.

**\-----o0o-----**

The match ends with Souji's bouken clattering to the floor, knocked away by Utsusemimaru's stronger, firmer slash, and Souji curses himself for not paying attention better. It's Utsusemimaru who picks up his bouken, but he doesn't give it back to Souji. He simply stares at it for a long time.

Souji decides he's had enough.

"Ucchii," his feet pad across the dojo, wooden floor cold under them. He watches Utsusemimaru's shoulders tense, watches his grip on the bouken tightens. "Where have you been the past month? We're all really worried, you know."

"Here and there," the reply comes vaguely, and Utsusemimaru's smile that accompanies it trembles. "I am very sorry that I worried everyone."

Souji takes in the tired look in Utsusemimaru's figure--the eyebags, the tired eyes, the slumped shoulders--and says, "I'll make some tea."

When he comes back with a tray of hot tea and two empty cups, Utsusemimaru is sitting on the _engawa_ facing the garden. They share a quiet smile when Souji takes a seat by his side; the tray of tea laid down between them. It's Sunday morning, the last of the summer heat has disappeared with the autumn breeze and the sounds of cicadas no longer fill the air.

"It seems like you have decided, Souji-dono," Utsusemimaru says when Souji pours him a cup. Souji pauses, glances up just in time to see the thin line of Utsusemimaru's lips, and quickly turns away again. He focuses on pouring the tea instead--carefully setting aside the pot once he's done, and pushes a cup towards Utsusemimaru.

"Here, Ucchii."

"Thank you."

He takes a breath, fills his lungs with both the morning autumn air and the bitter scent of the tea. Utsusemimaru doesn't take a sip of the tea, but he does cradles them close, like it could give him all the comfort he needs, and maybe it's the only thing that does, for now.

Souji wonders why Utsusemimaru had come here in the first place.

"I don't know if it's something we have to decide for," he says, and it still hurts, talking about it. It still hurts, remembering the last chuckle Ian had engraved against his lips. "I don't know if we have any choice."

He's the youngest. If anything, he's the one who knows less than anyone else in the team.

"Ian thinks we don't have a choice," the words roll in his mouth with an unpleasant aftertaste. "Amy-san wants it to be our choice. Nossan doesn't know if it's alright to make a choice at all, and King doesn't know how."

God, he sounds like a clueless kid.

"We have a responsibility," Utsusemimaru says. "Ian-dono isn't wrong. You are not either, Souji-dono."

Souji eyes him critically. "And Amy-san is?"

"I don't know," Utsusemimaru cradles his cup if tea closer, teeth worrying his lower lip. "I don't want to let go. But I'm scared of being selfish."

The heat from cup of tea in his hand sears into his skin, a contrasting bite to the slightly cold autumn breeze. Souji sighs, closes his eyes, and finally asks, "will you be coming back?"

The smile Utsusemimaru gives him is sad.

**\-----o0o-----**

A week later, Souji wakes up to the quiet buzz of his Mobuckle--stashed under his pillow by habit--and he stares blankly into the name flashing on the screen in disbelief for a long minute.

When he answers, his voice shakes. "Ian?"

"Hey," the voice on the other end cracks. "Did I wake you?"

A quick glance to the digital clock blinking on his desk confirms that it's three in the morning. Sleep is probably the furthest thing in his mind right now, though. "It's okay. Did anything--"

"Souji," his name, coming from Ian, always feels like a finely wielded weapon. "Let's run away together."

The world stops. His throat goes dry. Souji could hear the echo of his heart pounding in his ears.

He takes a shaky breath, but when he answers, the word comes out firm.

"Okay."

**\-----o0o-----**

"Of all places I've been searching in, I can't believe I'd find you here."

The night view on top of the skyscraper he's standing in is exceptional. It's a sea of light down there--Ian once told him that the city's life actually begins at night, and Utsusemimaru can't believe that he only understands it now. In the swaying yellow-gold lights peppering the city, people let go of their daily life personas: some with alcohol, some with family, some others with songs and friends and even strangers. The dull, trapped-in-routine city that bustles at day now takes a rest, and ironically comes to life because it does.

It's beautiful. He can't think of anywhere more perfect.

"It seems like Minityra properly sent my letter," he turns around, catches the sight of Daigo's red vest even before he sees Daigo's face. He smiles when Daigo waves an envelope at him--he'd left them with Minityra yesterday at the base, giving the tiny Tyrannosaurus an affectionate pat on the head, and receiving an apologetic nuzzle in exchange. Sometimes it still surprises him, how much all the Zyudenryuu understand them. "It's been a while, King-dono."

The smile on Daigo's lips doesn't reach his eyes. "That should be my line. Where have you been?"

"Taking care of some things." And here, he can't help the excitement that slips into his voice as he pulls the clearfile he's been holding into view. There's only one sheet of paper in there, a copy of the original document, and perhaps it's not something special, but Daigo would still be the first person to see it. "Ian-dono and Nossan-dono have been helping me. They call it bureaucracy."

Daigo's eyebrows furrow. "Bureaucracy? What sort of thing--wait, Ian and Nossan both knew where you were?"

"I asked them to keep it a secret," Utsusemimaru explains quickly, a sheepish look flashing on his face. "They were reluctant to do so, but--ah, King-dono! More importantly, please take a look at this!"

Maybe it's the excitement that bounces off him in waves. Maybe it's because he's shoving the clearfile into Daigo's hands. Or maybe it's because they have forgotten for a moment, the very thing that looms close in the future, but Daigo lets out a loud laugh, amused, and catches his hands instead of the clearfile. "Okay, okay," he grins, bright and blinding, and Utsusemimaru stares in awe for a moment. "You're really persistent when it comes to it, Ucchii."

He tries not to flush, but doesn't try to take his hands off Daigo's own. "This is important."

Daigo hums. "I wonder what it is," he says, grinning as one hand letting go to pull out the paper inside of the clearfile in Utsusemimaru's hands. "It's a paper? Did you get a certificate for some--oh..."

The paper is not even what matters. It does, in all the legitimacy that it has, because it's what makes it official, but the most important thing is the name written on the paper.

Iwaizumi Utsusemimaru.

Daigo lifts his eyes off the paper, surprise coloring them. "Ucchii, this is--"

"You suggested that I take my previous Lord's last name," Utsusemimaru smiles, feeling almost bashful. "I thought it was a good idea. Ian-dono said I'd need to set up a legal identity, too, now that we are not at war all the time, so I asked him and Nossan-dono to help. It took a long while, but it's official now." He squeezes Daigo's hands. "I wanted you to be the one who sees it first."

"Ucchii..." there's light in Daigo's eyes, one Utsusemimaru hasn't seen in a while. He's missed that, so much that it actually hurts to see it now. Daigo pulls him into a hug, arms tight around him, hands clutching his jacket, and Utsusemimaru laughs when Daigo's laughter resounds in his ears. "This is great! This is something we all should celebrate--you really should have told me sooner!"

"In that case, King-dono," Utsusemimaru says, grinning so wide his cheeks actually hurt. "Is it okay for me to ask for a kiss?"

Daigo, of course, doesn't answer. He sweeps in with a laugh instead, ringing like Christmas bells, and presses his lips against Utsusemimaru's own.

That's when Utsusemimaru's first broken sob escapes, and their kiss tastes of salt.

**\-----o0o-----**

Souji has a backpack with him. It looks heavy, and Ian allows himself to wonder for a second what might be in the bag, but before he could say anything, Souji is taking the passenger helmet from his hands.

"I haven't seen you take this bike out in a while," Souji comments as he straps the helmet on. He takes the oversized leather jacket Ian hands him as well, securing the clasps and buckles, and makes face at how the sleeves hangs over his knuckles.

Ian, for his part, grins and runs a hand over the the handlebar. "This one's only for special occassions. You ready?"

Souji's eyes, as always, are straightforward.

"Yeah."

The ignition kicks the bike alive--its roar deafening in the deathly silent neighborhood. Souji's chest presses firmly against his back, his arms around Ian's waist, holding on tight, and Ian forgoes his driving gloves in favor of placing his bare hand over Souji's own, keeping them secure in his. Their fingers intertwine, and it's Souji who hooks their forefingers together.

They drive down all the way to Yokohama. Ian remembers all the numbers representing the ports between Yokohama and London--12934 nautical miles, at least 53 days at sea--and squeezes Souji's hand as they speed along the outskirts of Tokyo, the wind whipping against their faces, biting chills into exposed skin.

It takes them an hour to reach their destination; Ian pulls to a stop in Minato Mirai district, close by the Osanbashi Pier. They can see the bridge from here, where in mere two hours the sun would rise over them. He pulls off his helmet, turns to see Souji do the same, and offers his hand with a grin.

"Let's go to the pier."

Souji takes his hand with a small smile.

"Okay."

**\-----o0o-----**

When Daigo pulls away, his eyes are wet, too.

Utsusemimaru shakes his head. "King-dono--"

"No," Daigo says, forcefully, and chases Utsusemimaru's lips. The kiss is harsher, this time, and Daigo swallows the sobs that rip themselves out of Utsusemimaru's lips because they shouldn't belong there. Let him take them in, let him keep them inside him, so that he would have this part of Utsusemimaru in him, forever, _forever._

Somewhere along the way, they turn into his own sobs.

So he says no, over and over again, and kisses Utsusemimaru like his life is depending on it. He inhales what Utsusemimaru breathes out--his name that isn't his name, the tiny gasps, the broken sobs, the faint, unfinished apologies. Utsusemimaru's fingers dig into his shoulders, eyelashes fluttering and kissing Daigo's cheeks, and they share both air and tears because they don't have tomorrow.

They can't have tomorrow.

**\-----o0o-----**

They lean against the fences lining all the way down to the pier, watching the waves quietly lap against the concrete wall under their feet. The scent of sea is thick in the air, and down on the pier there are a group of people huddling together, bursts of loud laughter drifting up from them every other minute. Waiting for the sunrise, and Ian voices the thought just so.

Souji's lips curve into a smile. "I've never seen the sunrise from Minato Mirai before."

"Great," Ian laughs. "It's my first time, too."

"That's nice," Souji says honestly. "I have a lot of my firsts with you, but there's not a lot of firsts that we both share."

Ian hums, one arm going around Souji's shoulder and pulling him closer. Souji lets him, wishes that it's not so dark that he couldn't see Ian's face when he leans into Ian's side. Sometimes, it's the small gestures that embarrass Ian more, and they feel like small victories.

"I was offered a position at my old University," Ian says. "They were impressed at the research Shiro and I did. It pays really nicely, so we won't have to worry about money."

Souji closes his eyes. They sting, and something in his chest throbs with every heartbeat. "Okay," he replies, and is inwardly proud that the word comes out strong. "London doesn't sound bad. I have my passport. And I packed my winter gear, too."

Ian's hand over his shoulder tightens. "You'll have to learn English better."

"I'll do my best." He wants to say _I always do, don't I?_ and _You'll help me, won't you Ian?_ but his tongue feels like lead. "My English now isn't that bad. I can survive."

Ian chuckles. "Says the one who still needed me to look over his English essays."

One of the people in the group down on the pier seem to decide that jumping into the water at four thirty in the morning is a great idea. The great splash of the water and the laughter that follows almost drown Ian's voice as he begins to tell Souji about London--Thames, he says, is really nice at this time of the year, though the weatherbis generally not. He tells of somber grey skies that contrasts the gorgeous autumn colors of London's parks, the backyard cinemas and theatre showings and his own university, the vintage fairs and how, maybe, when Souji is old enough to drink, he'd take Souji out during the National Champagne Week. He tells him about the Natural History Museum and dinosaur parks, the treasure hunt games all over the city that he loves to do when he has the time, and how when Souji gets used to speaking in English, they should partner up and do them together.

It's all dreams and wishes woven into a captivating narrative, beautifully enchanting the way only Ian could make it so.

"I bought a house, too," Ian says. "Not too big, but it's a really nice neighborhood. A lot of elderlies, they'd love to have you around, they could pamper you like you're their own grandson. It's a one-story house, but there's a basement, and I was thinking maybe we could have a dojo built there, so you could practice--"

The first rays of the sun is peeking over from the horizon, washing over the glittering surface of water. Souji smiles, and fails to keep his voice even when he says, "I didn't bring my bouken."

It's frightening, that he would have given it up, too.

"That's okay," Ian laughs. "I'm sure we can get you a new one. Maybe from Amazon."

Souji lets out a laugh, short and broken, and pulls away from Ian just as the first warm orange of the sunrays fall over Ian's face. He straightens up, looks at Ian with a smile, and lets his tears fall.

"Ian," he says with a brittle smile. "You're really good at lying."

Ian's smile doesn't vanish. It's there, sad and regretful, and it hurts.

**\-----o0o-----**

"I want you," Utsusemimaru says, "to be happy. And I know that you won't be, if we run away from this. From our responsibility."

He's right. But he's wrong, too, but Daigo doesn't know how to explain so.

So he tells Utsusemimaru, "I want you to be happy," and Utsusemimaru smiles brighter than the sea of night lights.

"I know," he answers, and plants another kiss on Daigo's lips. "That is why I have to go."

Daigo closes his eyes. "Ucchii," he breathes out, presses their foreheads together. "I love you."

Utsusemimaru's laugh is wet. "I love _you_ , King-dono." His lips taste of salt, and the faintest trace of ginger orange. Daigo tells himself to remember that, to carve them in his memory, and everything that he is. "Be happy."

Daigo doesn't tell him that he doesn't know _how._ So he turns to his last line of defense--one that never fails him, one that carries him through even when he had to walk alone: a wide smile.

"You, too, Ucchii."

**\-----o0o-----**

The sun shyly peeks at their last kiss, traded over gleaming water awashed with layers of deep yellow and orange, and there are loud cheers from the group on the pier. It's everything that doesn't fit a farewell, Ian thinks, but he's just glad that Souji doesn't let go of his hands.

Souji's cheeks are cold when he traces the tears there.

"I'm leaving today," he whispers.

Souji nods. He doesn't say good-bye. He doesn't tell Ian to take care, or that he loves Ian, or that they'll see each other again someday. What he says is this:

"Thank you, Ian."

And Ian draws him into his arms, embraces him tight, buries his face into Souji's hair, so the younger boy doesn't see his tears.

**\-----o0o-----**

Utsusemimaru leaves with Ian the next evening.

Amy is furious. Violently so, and she screams at everyone, at Nobuharu for not saying anything, at Daigo and Souji for giving up, and calls them cowards, calls them hurtful names that she never throws to anyone ever. She leashes out for hours, until she doesn't know who it is she's angry with, anymore. Her shoulders, narrow and seemingly frail as she sobs into Yuuko's arms, are hunched for the rest of the day.

"I hate all of you," she murmurs, exhausted, and god, it's so unfair. It's so, so unfair. "I hate all of you so much."

In the end, the one who is hurt the most is the one they all never wish to hurt.

**\-----o0o-----**

Here's the contradiction in the tale of the bravest team in history, Kyouryuuger: it's the future itself that forces them apart, sends them on their own way by the weight of responsibility.

If they hadn't been Kyouryuugers, one would think, it probably wouldn't have ended this way.

But hadn't being Kyouryuugers bring them together in the first place, as well?

**\-----o0o-----**


	2. Chapter 2

Souji gets married to Katsuyama Rin on a bright, sunny day on March. He's 23 years old and Rin is 22, and it's the day of what Rin calls their middle birthday--the exact date that divides both of their birthdays, and she says it should be perfect.

He's the first one out of the whole team to get married, mostly because his Dad's health hasn't been the best and Souji wants him to stay assured about the future of the dojo. Everyone in their team attends, except Utsusemimaru who couldn't come because he gets stuck all the way in Greenland for some reason. He calls, however, the day before the ceremony, to offer Souji his congratulations.

"I'm sad that I can't see everyone for this joyous occassion," Utsusemimaru says, his frown clear in his voice. "Speaking of which, how are they?"

"Good, I guess," Souji answers. "King just got back from Vietnam the other day. Nossan is opening a small branch of _Nandemoya Marufuku_ on the next town over, and Rika-chan is finishing middle school. Amy-san said she's still mad at you for leaving, but that's because she loves you a lot. She's graduating her Master program next semester."

"I'm happy to hear everyone's doing well," Utsusemimaru laughs. "Well, then, I will try to call again very soon. Congratulations on your marriage, Souji-dono."

Souji doesn't say thank you because he knows Utsusemimaru doesn't expect him to.

Ian doesn't call him. He calls Rin instead, wishing them happiness and congratulating them on the pretense that he can't reach Souji's phone, and asks Rin to give Souji his regards. Souji breathes through the anger and frustration it brings, and smiles at Rin instead.

Rin, hesitant but oblivious still, peers up at him, and asks, "Do you think we'll be happy?"

Souji's answer is painfully pragmatic: "Let's try our best."

**\-----o0o-----**

Nobuharu, nearing forty years old now, laughs sheepishly when another omiai that Yuuko arranges for him falls apart.

Yuuko huffs and tells him off, though half-heartedly so. Rika, because she's always been a sharp kid, turns to her mother and questions, "Mom, why do you keep making him go to those meetings anyway?"

"Because," Yuuko answers as she hoists the last box of tools that Nobuharu had brought home. "He has to have kids. Offsprings. Descendants. To carry on the blood of Kyouryuugers."

Rika tilts her head. "Uncle clearly doesn't want to."

"But he thinks he needs to," Yuuko shakes her head. "Probably because all his friends also think they need to."

"Oh," Rika says thoughtfully, because adults are so confusing. She's not really looking forward to be one. "But when I have a child, one day, wouldn't it count as Uncle's descendant, as well?"

Yuuko pauses, stares at her daughter for a long, long moment, before she breaks into a smile.

"I don't know," she grins. "But my daughter might be a genius."

She stops arranging omiai for her brother afterwards. Instead, she looks out for any hints and rumors of odd happenings in the city, any weird sightings that could have been Candelilla or Luckyuro, because women always have to take care of matters into their own hands, especially when it comes to men being dumb.

Maybe she should talk to Amy as well, she thinks. They're all adults now, and maybe exactly because they are all adults that they can't see what children see: the future might be absolute, but it's not without loopholes.

And it's up to them to find those loopholes.

**\-----o0o-----**

One of the reasons why Ian both loves and dreads Erica is because she's always been the one who comes to him with the craziest ideas.

Her girlfriend, Charlotte, is a petite American who grew up in the mountains of Vermont. She's everything that Erica isn't: shy and almost too humble, quiet and reserved and dreams of a future with a white-fenced house, a dog, and tiny children running around. Ian loves her, too--she's lovely and nice to be around, and she's helped him with his research several times now.

It doesn't make him less surprised when Erica says, "Ian, would you donate us your sperm?"

Ian's jaws fall. "What."

Erica, on the other hand, sounds more excited. "You once told me that there are a lot of twins in your family, right? Maybe we'd get lucky!"

And they do. Charlotte conceives triplets, and Ian gets a rare moment of self-awe at the news before Erica hugs the hell out of him, thanking him profusely for helping them conceive children. He laughs, because it's nice to be a part of a family made by people he loves, unconventional as it is.

"You should get married and have children too, Ian," Charlotte says, months down the road when she and Erica visits him in London, and he has his hands full helping them feed the triplets. "You're really good with them."

It's a careless comment with no malice behind the words. Charlotte doesn't know; hell, Erica has no idea herself, and she's known Ian much longer. Still, the comment stings, because it reminds him of the reason he left Japan seven years ago--his team, and Souji, and half-baked dreams that never came true.

"Mmm," he responds vaguely, and drops a kiss on the baby in his arms.

**\-----o0o-----**

Daigo proposes to Amy on the top of the ferris wheel at Odaiba Venus Fort. No, they aren't in one of the gondolas; Daigo had Gabutyra hoist them up all the way to the top of the ferris wheel because he's reckless like that. Amy loves it, especially because Gabutyra would be right there to catch them even if they decide to jump off and plummet down to the earth, which is really nothing for the members of a former sentai team.

She could say no. She sort of wants to, because she still believes in the dream where Utsusemimaru comes home and sweeps Daigo off his feet to their happy ending somewhere under the sunset. But saying no also means rendering the pain they all went through these past seven years into nothing, because the future decided that Daigo has to marry her. She can't just throw away the future now, not when everyone else gave up so much already.

She still sort of wants to say no, just to spite everyone in the future.

But she doesn't have the heart to do so. So she says, "Only if I get to name all of our kids."

Daigo grins, eyes dancing. "Only if you can beat me to the station."

"Oh," Amy's eyes narrow, and she takes a step back, teeth flashing as her long cardigan flaps backwards in the strong wind. "You are so on!!"

With that and a thrilling whoop, Amy hurls herself off the ledge, ignoring Daigo's yelp and accusation of cheating, to where Gabutyra's front paws are waiting.

**\-----o0o-----**

Utsusemimaru doesn't exactly get married, though legally, he does. He just didn't expect things to spiral out of control, and certainly hadn't expected to come out of it with a son.

He really had just wanted to help.

"I mean," Maia shrugs, almost too nonchalantly for someone who gripes daily about how frustrating children are, "accidents happen."

Utsusemimaru stares at her. "I'm--"

Maia grins. "Don't worry, Ucchii, I'll still divorce you."

For the last three years, Maia has been the closest friend Utsusemimaru has. She's bright, too smart for the small village she's been living in her whole life, and her only way to get out of the village is if she gets married to someone who would take her out. And Utsusemimaru had wanted to help, had wanted to take her to England where he knows Ian could help, because she deserves so much more than an abusive father who would raise his hand on her if he catches her reading instead of working the farm. It's a great plan: get married, get Maia out of the village, go to England, and get divorced.

Except their wedding night--the one time Utsusemimaru can't avoid consummating the marriage because the village has "traditions"--actually bears a result.

"Don't worry so much," Ian tells him over the phone, when he finally stops snorting at Utsusemimaru's heroic tale. "Just get her here, Erica and Charlotte are planning to move to England permanently anyway."

"I can't just divorce her now that she's carrying my son," Utsusemimaru says miserably. "That's not--"

"But she wants you to divorce her."

"Well, yes, she says she doesn't want the distraction of a husband."

"Ucchii," Ian says gently, his tone coaxing despite the laughter underlining his voice. "You don't have to be her husband to stay by her side and your son. You're her family, and she loves you."

So in the end, that's what he does. He takes Maia out of the village and goes to London, and they file for a divorce the week after. Erica and her girlfriend moves in two days later, and Ian takes care of enrolling Maia into a university. Everything goes really smoothly; Utsusemimaru mostly helps around with the triplets, but it's fascinating to see Maia starts a new life and simultaneously lets a whole new life grow inside of her.

Then one night, Ian takes hime aside and says, "Amy-chan came to visit, three days before you got here."

Utsusemimaru blinks. "Amy-dono did?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry not to tell you sooner, but it's been hectic, and--" Ian runs a hand through his hair, hesitating for a moment, before handing him a white envelope. "Well. King proposed. They're holding the ceremony in January. We're invited."

Utsusemimaru stares at the envelope--at the fancy pink ribbon over the seal, at the characters of his full name in familiar handwriting on it, at the tiny doodle of Minityra on the corner of the envelope. He wonders if he should have expected this sooner, and if it's okay to still feel hurt by this, despite being the one who left in the first place.

"Should we go?" his voice sounds like an echo from faraway place.

Ian's lips twist into a lopsided smile. "Should we?"

"We're a team," Utsusemimaru says, but he sounds like he's convincing himself. "Besides, if we don't go, Amy-dono will be livid."

Somewhere in the house, there's a terrible crash followed by three surprised yelps, but also a burst of laughter. Utsusemimaru fingers the edge of the envelope, wonders what sort of invitation is inside and if he has any right to choose to not come. Instead if wondering out loud, though, he asks, "Did she tell you how everyone is doing?"

Ian barks a bitter laugh--one that Utsusemimaru has gotten worryingly used to for the past seven years.

"She did," Ian says, still laughing humorlessly. "Souji has a baby daughter now."

**\-----o0o-----**

"King," Amy calls, sounding angry and frustrated, and Daigo looks up from Minityra to find her offering her Mobuckle to him, eyebrows knitted and lips curving down in an unpleasant frown. "You talk to him!"

Daigo blinks. "Uuhh?"

"Ucchii," Amy says, cheeks all puffed up in that cute way of hers. "He's trying to make excuses not to come for our wedding!"

She stomps away once Daigo takes the Mobuckle off her hands, grumbling incessantly about men and how dumb they could get, and Daigo stares at the Mobuckle for a good minute before he finally puts it to his ear. Half-expecting Utsusemimaru to have hung up on him already, he says, "Hello?"

Silence. And then, for the first time in eight years, Utsusemimaru's voice, broken in phone statics but still achingly familiar, greets his ears: "King-dono?"

Daigo breathes really carefully. Lets his lips curve up into a smile, and cheerfully replies, "Hey, Ucchii. It's been a long time, huh?"

Minityra is doing excited little flips now, probably happy to hear that Utsusemimaru calls. Daigo thinks he's not imagining the relief in Utsusemimaru's voice when he speaks next; "It's been a long time. I'm sorry I never called."

There are a thousand things heavy on his tongue--it's eight years of not knowing where and how Utsusemimaru is doing, except for the occassional news that Ian brings him through the phone and e-mails in exchange of questions of how Souji is doing. They are still a team, one that would work perfectly well, but there are fractures unfixed that Daigo hates, because the scars are deep and perhaps not healing, and it's unfair to everyone. To them. To him, if he wants to be selfish, but he can't.

"That's okay," he says instead, injects a laugh to make the words sound lighter, and inwardly wonders when he'd learned to lie so well. Maybe it's just what comes with the territory of being adults. "Amy is mad at you."

Utsusemimaru's answer is wistful. "I suppose she will not be forgiving me for a long time."

Daigo hums. "What's this about you not coming?"

The silence stretches for a long time. In he background, Daigo hears an unmistakable cry of a baby--or more than one?--and a distinctly feminine voice singing a faint lullaby. Something in his stomach lurches; he knows about it, Ian's told him about how Utsusemimaru accidentally gets a son, and it's laughable, isn't it, that he's still not prepared for this pain?

"Ucchii," he says, when Utsusemimaru still hasn't deigned him an answer. "Come home."

The sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line belies what Utsusemimaru actually wants. "King-dono..."

"Come home. Bring Ian with you." Minityra is flipping dangerously close to the edge of the table, and Daigo reaches out to nudge him back to safety. "We'll all get together again. Have a sleepover at the Spirit Base, like the good old times. We can even have a barbecue, yeah? It's gonna be great!"

There's a tiny chuckle, half-broken with static. "A sleepover on your wedding night?"

"Why not? I bet Amy would love it. She'd make us marathon her--" he pauses, glances quickly at the general direction of where Amy had gone, and lowers his voice, "--questionable collection of movies, and we can even invite the Zyuudenryuu to join us. It'd be so much fun!"

The sound of Utsusemimaru's laughter is achingly familiar, and it makes him grin wider. There's an odd mix of excitement and wistfulness curling in his chest--Minityra bumps his head against the flat palm of his hand, half-concerned, and Daigo pats him lightly on the head.

"Come on, Ucchii," his voice is quiet, softer than he would have liked, and he can't keep the pleading tone off his voice. "The Spirit Base always feels so empty now. Come home."

Utsusemimaru doesn't say anything. Instead, Daigo hears a loud yelp, followed by feminine-sounding cheers and the sounds of children laughing. It's a world he doesn't know, a world that Utsusemimaru has found for himself without Daigo's presence, and oh, he misses the times when Utsusemimaru turned wide-eyed fascination and excited grins at him over the new things they discovered together. The times where they're part of one another's world, and Daigo got to see each blunder and smile Utsusemimaru makes.

"You know," Utsusemimaru says, his voice warm. "That's just like you, King-dono."

It's Minityra who answers with a tiny adorable roar. Utsusemimaru chuckles, sounding genuinely amused, and Daigo doesn't dare hope, but--

"We'll be there," Utsusemimaru promises.

Daigo manages to hold on until he says his goodbyes, but once the connection is cut, a broken laugh tears itself free from his throat.

**\-----o0o-----**

Rin finds out about Ian and Souji's old relationship in the most uncanny way possible.

"It all makes sense now, I guess," she says, when she finds the tiny daisies pressed in-between Souji's old high school notebook, carefully stashed in the same box where his Gaburevolver is. Their daughter tries to chew on the handle of the Gaburevolver, and Souji reaches out to take it away from her. "You've always been so adamant on taking his side and explaining him to me."

Souji opens his mouth, closes it again. "He's not a bad person," he says lamely. "I didn't want you to think of him badly."

Her smile wobbles. "Because you love him."

There's no point in correcting her use of present tense. Souji draws their daughter into his lap instead, watches as Rin carefully store back the notebook and Gaburevolver into the box, gingerly closing it. She has tears on her cheeks, and Souji is oddly reminded of Yayoi's pitter-patter tears the day she confessed to Daigo.

"Rin," he begins, but Rin shakes her head.

"We've all been so selfish," she says. "You and I, and probably him, too. That's why we haven't been happy."

It hurts, to have her say that to his face. An acknowledgment that she's not happy, despite how hard Souji's been trying for the two years of their marriage. He doesn't regret--it's their decision, their choice, and their daughter is reward enough, but something in him also bristles when faced with the fact that he can't protect Rin from sadness.

All he can say is this: "I'm sorry."

Rin nods. "Me, too."

She leaves him a week later, taking their daughter with her with promise to bring her over to see Souji every other weekend and that Rin will let her take the name of Rippuukan if their daughter wishes to do so in the future. Souji sees them off, waves at his daughter with a smile, and returns to the dojo just as Amy arrives for her weekly visit.

He tells her about Rin leaving. Amy places a hand over his own, smiles a sad smile, and says, "You've worked hard, Souji-kun."

Rippuukan Souji smiles, and for the first time since that early morning eight years ago in the Port of Yokohama, breaks into tears.

It feels oddly cathartic.

Later, when he's calmed down and Amy's made him that one extremely bitter tea she's developed a taste for over the years, Souji looks over the pictures of her visit to London. It's his first time putting actual images to the stories Ian once told him of London in autumn--the somber sky and the park covered in bright-colored leaves, the beer festival and the backyard cinemas, the gigantic fossil of Diplodocus iconic of the Natural History Museum, Amy laughing in every photo that has her in the shot.

There are other pictures, too. A house, not too big, painted white and pale creme, with a small garden where various flowers bloom. A work space, photos of ancient artifacts and fossils scattered over documents half-burying a laptop, with barely a scant space for a cup of coffee. And oddly, a small dojo, wooden floor polished clean and rows of bouken resting against the wall.

"He bought a house," Amy says by way of explaining. "Made the basement into a dojo."

How much of that night had been a lie, Souji wonders. Had Ian really bought the house, had he really wanted to take Souji away? And Souji himself--he'd left his bouken behind, packed his passport and winter clothes and the Japanese-English dictionary, and he thinks maybe he'd have followed Ian, too, if Ian had been really serious. It's almost a frightening thought, such ferocity, and it scares him that he regrets letting go of Ian that night.

"If I had run away," Souji murmurs. "Would I have been forgiven?"

On the last photo, Ian stands off to the side in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in one hand and a paper in the other, the familiar look of single-minded focus on his face. Something in Souji aches--longing perhaps, or regrets for having been so young and confused, for letting go instead of trying harder to be brave. He runs a finger over Ian's figure, wonders if Ian is as skinny as he looks in the picture, and laughs when a teardrop falls.

Amy, because she understands their team best, tells him, "we'd have forgiven you."

Because really, who else would have mattered?

**\-----o0o-----**

Yuuko finds Candelilla by chance.

She finds her in the midst of a child's birthday party in her monster form, surrounded by children as she reads them a picture book. Everyone thinks it's her costume, apparently, despite the many times tiny stray hands tug on her head in futile attempts to pull off her 'mask'. It's heartening, to see her somehow managing to find a place to belong, a space to fit in this oftentimes cruel world.

And of course, she has to drag Nobuharu over to meet her.

Here's the point: Nobuharu is now well-settled and resigned about nearing forty. He doesn't really hope for much--he knows he should probably find a wife, stop making Yuuko worry, and actually get an offspring because the future needs a new Kyouryuu Blue, but it's really not his fault if there are no women who are interested in him. It's not like he's saving himself or anything--that sounds like such a teenager thing to do--but he just finds it hard to develop serious relationship when he's still hung up over someone who isn't even the same species at him.

See, that's the main problem. His love interest isn't even human.

Or so he thought at first, but it's hard to remember that problem when Candelilla is standing in front of him, head tilted in surprise, one hand on her hip and the other covering her mouth as she goes, "Araa, Kyouryuu Blue?"

Nobuharu swallows. "Hi, Candelilla," he says, and smiles when Candelilla giggles, because Nobuharu's happiness has always been the simplest.

**\-----o0o-----**

On the day of her wedding, Amy takes Yayoi's hands and makes her stop fussing over the flowers that crowns over her veils. Yayoi turns an inquisitive look at her, and Amy asks, "Aren't we the ones deciding our future?"

Yayoi stares at her, clearly hesitant. "Amy-san...?"

"Because I think we are," Amy tells her, and in the corner, Yuuko rises to her feet and approaches them, eyes firm and certain. Amy turns to her with a smile and a nod, and takes her hand, too. "We've made so many mistakes, because we all misunderstood, but I think it's not too late for all of us, yet."

Yuuko squeezes their hands together. "It's fixable," she says lightly, with the pride of someone who has been handling odd jobs for the better part of her adult life and happy with it.

Amy grins and says, "We'll fix this."

It doesn't sound much like a vow, but it is.

**\-----o0o-----**

On the day of his wedding, Daigo kisses Amy with Utsusemimaru watching on the front row, and finds himself wishing for the taste of ginger orange.

There are sniffles echoing in the small chapels in the midst of the cheers. Some of them, Daigo is sure, are the sounds of grief. Amy doesn't smile--she just looks determined. Daigo thinks she's stopped grieving a long time ago and turns to harden instead, in a way so that she could break through anything that needs breaking. It keeps surprising him, time and again, how strong and stubborn Amy is.

None of their team offers congratulations. They trade hugs and small understanding smiles instead, and Daigo turns away when Amy buries her face into Utsusemimaru's chest, knuckles white around her bouquet of flowers as her shoulders tremble. Eight years, he thinks, and finds a familiar solace in Ian's shoulder--the other one he hasn't seen in years, the other one of the missing members of their team.

Daigo misses them.

"Aw, King, are you crying?" Ian jokes, because that's how he expresses kindness. "You can't make me stay longer just with tears, you know. Buy me some drinks, then we can see how it goes."

Utsusemimaru hugs him, too--polite, almost rigid at first, but Daigo misses him too much to mind. He lets himself be selfish instead, tells himself that _just this once_ , and _this'll be the last_ , and digs his fingers onto Utsusemimaru's back, hard enough to make him wince.

He allows himself a tiny, almost silent, "I missed you."

Utsusemimaru doesn't answer, but Daigo feels him swallow hard.

If anyone thinks it strange that he spends so long hugging Utsusemimaru, nobody seems to bother to point it out.

**\-----o0o-----**

On the day of Daigo and Amy's wedding, Souji feels like he's ten years older than he should be.

He hasn't said anything to Ian ever since they met again on frontyard of the chapel earlier before the ceremony. Utsusemimaru had been with him, then, and once he's answered Ian's short playful greeting of "hey, boy," with a brief hug, Souji busies himself listening to Utsusemimaru's excited stories of the countries he'd visited. He tries not to look at Ian, because looking at Ian makes him think of a house with a small dojo on the basement, and the question would float up on his mind unbidden: _how much of it was a lie?_

Silly him. What good does it have, to question it now, when he had simply accepted everything for the past eight years?

It's by the end of the small reception that he inexplicably finds himself standing next to Ian, watching Amy and Gentle dance on the center of the room with a glass of wine on his hand. Maybe it's the young, naive part in him still--barely 25, surrounded by the no longer half-baked adults whose regrets could make up mountains, how is it possible that he could feel so young and so old at the same time?--wanting another chance, or seeking for the possibility of another end. Maybe it's just Ian's presence, and how Souji is so weak still against it.

Eight years, and he feels like he barely changes. He isn't sure if it's a good thing.

"Ian," he says, but doesn't look up to meet Ian's eyes, focusing on the swirl of wine in his hand instead. "How long are you staying?"

"Well," he hears Ian reply, and wishes that he's brave enough to see what kind of face Ian is making right now. "King and Amy wanted to have the sleepover at the Spirit Base tonight, so I'm staying until tomorrow. Maybe taking the flight back the day after."

Souji inhales, closes his eyes, and says, "Alright."

He downs the rest of his wine and leaves.

**\-----o0o-----**

His suit feels too restricting. Daigo hopes his parents-in-law would let him get away with not wearing a suit every single time hey come over for dinner--Gentle at least has mellowed out over the years, now that Amy has perfected her Princess-like manner when she has to act in front of important people. Not that Daigo can't pull off a proper manner himself, but that's where he and Amy are so similar, isn't it?

Nobuharu slides to his side, deft hand replacing the empty glass of wine in Daigo's hand with a filled one. "You look exhausted, King. That's not like you."

His eyes stray over the where Utsusemimaru stands, heads knocked together with Yuuko, sharing laughter over whatever it is they're talking about. "Nah, I'm okay."

Nobuharu raises an eyebrow. "Okay enough to listen to an old man's life complains?"

His laugh bubbles up his throat before he even knows it. "Nossan," he grins, slaps his friend's back with enough force to make Nobuharu wince. "I'm never too tired to listen to you! Go on, try me, shoot."

The song ends, its last note hanging in the air as Amy and Gentle bows to each other. On the other side of the room, Amy's mother sweeps in, her husband by her side, and a new song begins. Daigo wonders for a moment if he's supposed to take Amy to the floor and dance with her parents, now, but Amy doesn't so much look towards him. She's scampering away to where Utsusemimaru and Yuuko are, instead, so Daigo figures it's safe to stay away a bit longer.

Then Nobuharu says, "I found Candelilla."

Daigo isn't sure what he'd expected. Nobuharu, despite being the simplest out of everyone in their team, sometimes has a knack to completely throw everyone off balance, and it's never for his jokes. He turns to Nobuharu properly, searches his expression for any hint of a joke, and when his attempts proves to be futile, he says, "oh."

Nobuharu smiles. "I decided to never get married."

Daigo's jaw drops. "But," he says, scrambilng for words and finding none. "Nossan, we need--Kyouryuuger, the future--"

Nobuharu nods, purses his lips in the way he does when he's determined to keep his decision. "I'm sort of luckier that all of you," he smiles. "I have Rika. She technically counts, especially because I raised her. But I was thinking the other day--it wouldn't be fair if I have to force Rika to marry someone just to make sure she continues my blood. Even if it is for the future Kyouryuuger, I don't think I could bear watching her not be happy."

 _The way we all are now_ , is what Nobuharu doesn't say, but Daigo hears it all the same.

"You're the same, aren't you, King?" Nobuharu catches his eyes. "If it's yourself, if it's ourselves who have to bear this burden, we'd be okay with it. We see it as part of our responsibility. It's what being in a sentai team means--we shoulder them together. But it's different with Rika, or with Souji's daughter, or Ucchii's son, or Ian's. They aren't just born to continue carrying this weight, are they?"

From the corner of his eyes, Daigo sees Utsusemimaru walk towards them, a small smile on his lips, and Nobuharu pats him on the shoulder.

"King," he says carefully. "Let's stop."

With that, Nobuharu steps away, looking as if a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Daigo stares at him mutely, until it's Utsusemimaru who steps into his line of vision, eyes as soft as his smile, and Daigo forgets to breathe.

"King-dono," he's taking away the glass of wine in his hand. Daigo lets him, too busy watching the lines of Utsusemimaru's face, the curve of his lips, the way his bangs frame his jaw. "If it's okay, can I talk to you in private?"

Daigo stares and stares, opens his mouth, and croaks a "yeah." He blinks, clears his throat, and plasters a sheepish grin across his lips. "Yeah! I mean, yeah, let's go out to the garden?"

They pass Amy and Ian on their way out. Daigo receives a secretive thumb-up and a mouthed "good luck!" from Amy, which confuses him a little, but then he remembers Nobuharu and _King, let's stop._

Daigo looks at the back of Utsusemimaru's head.

It's almost funny, how easy it is to make a decision he'd agonized over so much eight years ago.

**\-----o0o-----**

"Leaving already?"

Udou Yuuko, unlike her brother, commands a sense of respect that Souji sometimes completely forgets from Nobuharu. Maybe that's why he stops on his track, turns around and gives a proper bow, which draws a soft laugh from the woman.

"Stop that," she chides lightly. "I'm not even that much older than you."

Souji relaxes, his earlier tension dissipating and making way to curiosity instead. "Did you need something, Yuuko-san?"

"No, not me. It should be you," Yuuko smiles. "You have--this look, this very pinched, unhappy look, like you're not satisfied with something and you hate it. Has anyone ever told you that you're actually very easy to read, Souji-kun?"

Souji stares at her. "...no? I get told the opposite, a lot..."

"Maybe it's because we're a team," Yuuko says cheerfully as she reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. "Oh, but I do have an advice to give you."

"Advice?" Souji echoes, and it's hard not to feel like a kid all over again, when his closest friends are so much older and wiser and knowing, and is it strange that he never minds it one bit?

Yuuko holds his gaze, smiles almost secretively.

"It's not too late yet," she tells him. Her voice is gentle, as soft as the evening breeze. "You still have your own future."

**\-----o0o-----**

Ian stares at Amy oddly as she waves Daigo and Utsusemimaru off. "Did you just--?"

"King needs all the luck he can get now," Amy replies, snagging a tiny truffle from the small dessert plate in Ian's hand. "I mean, if Ucchii's still stubborn about this, I'm going to help and make sure he stays here, but I hope it wouldn't come to that."

Something in Ian's brain seems to refuse to click the puzzle into place. "Amy-chan, are you... planning to make a threesome with King and Ucchii?"

"I can't kick you in this dress but I can still elbow you in the gut, no problem," Amy says cheerfully. She takes the last of the tiny chocolate truffles on Ian's plate, and brightens when Yayoi comes over with her own plate. "Ugh, I'm _famished._ Whose bright idea is it to not let the bride eat before the ceremony?"

Yayoi giggles, humors Amy when the older girl opens her mouth and feeds her the small cupcake on her plate. "That's because you have to be careful with your dress, Amy-san."

"More importantly," Amy says after swallowing a mouthful, waving a hand at Ian. "I haven't seen Souji-kun? Ian, why are you not with him?"

Ian cocks his head in faux innocence. "Am I supposed to supervise the boy?"

"He's hardly one," Amy snorts. She glances back towards where Daigo and Utsusemimaru had gone earlier, the door towards the back garden, before turning back to Ian. "Honestly, Ian. Why are we still doing this?"

Ian barks a laugh, shaking his head. He tosses back the rest of the wine in his glass, putting it on one of the passing waiter's tray in a lazy motion. "Amy-chan, we've gone through this before."

He can feel both Amy and Yayoi's eyes on him, almost judging. "You're smarter than this, Ian."

 _I wonder_ , Ian thinks, but doesn't say anything.

"You said maybe we'll be happy, in a different way," Amy says, returning the words he once had told her. "In the past eight years, I think I tried to believe in that. After all, everyone has made their choice, and I don't want to be the only one running away. And here we are, in my wedding, and none of us are happy about--well, everything. Has it ever occured to you that we didn't make the right choice?"

Another waiter passes by, a tray of filled glasses of wine on his hand. Ian's hand makes a motion of reaching out for one of them, but the his mind aborts the idea altogether, and his hand stays hanging in the air as the waiter makes his way to the other side of the room.

"I just think it's ridiculous," Amy continues. "The future only showed us a result, not a process. We get to decide how, don't we?"

Ian closes his eyes.

"Why were we so scared of the future?"

 _You have never been_ , Ian thinks. _But I'm not you. I've always been a coward. The least brave of everyone, and I don't know why you guys never made fun of me about it, ever._

"Ian-san," Yayoi speaks up, and there's tremor in her voice like she's breathing through so many emotions that she can't parse through. "Let's all stop."

It's Amy's hand who finds his own, squeezing gently, and Ian is almost surprised to see her eyes wet.

"Go find Souji-kun."

**\-----o0o-----**

Utsusemaru has a whole speech planned.

He'd spent sleepless night trying to compose it, too: he'd start with telling Daigo the tales of his own adventure all over Europe, how he'd seen the things Daigo once told him in stories by his own eyes, how he'd made friends with simultaneously so different and similar to him. How he'd found Maia and how he'd accidentally gotten himself a son, and what a blessing it is to have him in his life. And then a little white lie in the end, to tell Daigo that he's happy now, so Daigo don't have to worry anymore, so Daigo could go and be happy and _congratulations on your wedding, King-dono--_

And it all falls apart when Daigo's arms wind around him, pulling him back into a tight hug, Daigo's chest flush against his back.

"Ucchii," the words aren't so much a sound as they are a vibration through Utsusemimaru's body. "Please stay."

It's hard to breathe. He's not sure if it's because Daigo is holding him so tightly, or if his throat has closed up and denied him oxygen. Maybe a little bit of both, he thinks, almost light-headed with the warmth.

"King-dono," he finally manages. "It's--we can't--this wasn't what we--"

"I'm not letting you go," fingers are digging into his arms, and Utsusemimaru looks down to see Daigo's knuckles, white with the force of him clutching Utsusemimaru close. "I'm being really selfish and you can blame me for this, but please, please stay."

Utsusemimaru closes his eyes, scrunches his face, tries not to cry. "King-dono--"

"What do I have to say to make you stay?" Daigo sounds so lost, and Utsusemimaru feels guilty for that. "We made the wrong decision, but it's not too late to stop now. Good things came out of it, good things would come out of it in the future, but Ucchii, that doesn't change the fact that we regret, does it?"

 _You're not happy_ , Utsusemimaru hears in the desperate tone of Daigo's voice. _You're not happy and neither am I, and we're hurting a lot of people because of it, too._

He knows that. He knows, but.

"You want me to be happy, right?"

And oh, that's so unfair. So very unfair, because if there's anything Utsusemimaru wouldn't think twice to throw everything away for, it's his friends' happiness--be it duty or his own happiness, he'd throw it away. And he knows, he knows that none of them have been happy these past eight years, but it had been part of their duty to answer the future. Maybe they just haven't found that happiness, yet. Maybe just a little bit nore down the road. Maybe--

"I'll bear it. If we're sinners because we screw up the future, then you can blame me. And blame Amy, because she's the one who never stopped believing in us, but Ucchii, please." The arms around him slacken, but doesn't let go. "Please stay."

Utsusemimaru is supposed to be strong. But most of the times, Utsusemimaru believes he's not.

So he reaches up, twists slightly in Daigo's arm and blindly leans in to press his lips against the corner of Daigo's lips. Daigo stiffens, breath catching, and when he looks at Utsusemimaru, his eyes are again wide and so very young.

"If you would have me," Utsusemimaru says softly.

Their kiss tastes like salty tears. There's no faint trace of ginger orange, but the laughter born in the scant breath between their lips is sweeter than any of Utsusemimaru's favorite dessert.

**\-----o0o-----**

Ian bumps into Souji and Yuuko just outside of the reception hall.

"Oh," he says, almost involuntarily, because talk about perfect timing. He glances at Yuuko, turning to the closed door behind him, and tilts his head. "Are you guys heading back in?"

Yuuko smiles. "I am. Souji-kun isn't."

She pats Souji on the shoulder, and with that, breezes past Ian and slips through the door. It closes back with a heavy sound.

Ian turns to Souji, a teasing smile on his lips. "Still aiming for the older ones, huh?"

Souji's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What?"

Ian throws his head back and laughs. He's missed this, the amusement of teasing Rippuukan Souji. "Nothing," he says, shaking his head dismissively and grinning at the younger man.

Souji eyes him warily. "You're laughing at me."

Ah, sharp as ever. "I'm not. Promise." He wipes the grin off his face and settles on a soft smile instead. "Sometimes I think I'm hilarious. You know how it is."

"Hmm," the way Souji lets him off the hook never changes, not even after eight years of not talking to each other. "Were you just leaving, Ian?"

"No. I was looking for you--" his mind cuts off there, letting the sentence hang in the air, and Ian inwardly curses himself. "I mean, Amy-chan was wondering about you, so I thought I should--"

Souji's lips curl into a smile. "You're still really good at lying, huh."

So much for his effort. Ian runs a hand through his hair--it doesn't matter that he's making a mess of his hairstyle, the party is almost over and it's not like he wants to pick anyone up and home. He changes the topic instead of defending himself, because he's good like that. "What were you doing out?"

The sounds of muffled orchestra striking out a new song drift from behind the door. Souji loosens up his tie, walks over to the pillar by the entrance of the chapel, motioning Ian to follow him in a smooth gesture Ian has never seen him do before. He smiles, almost wistfully, and wonders what sort of things Souji has learned without him, what sort of things shaped him to be the young man standing in front of Ian now.

"I was going to leave," Souji says honestly. "But then I can't get it out of my mind."

Ian stares at him--at the lanky limbs that Souii never loses despite prevailing through puberty, at the sharper lines of his jaw, at all the subtle ways maturity pulled at his frame. The photos Amy and Daigo and sometimes Yayoi sent him didn't do him justice. "Get what out of your mind?"

Souji steps forward and stands in front of him, a mere arm reach away. Ian stuffs his hands into his pocket so he wouldn't accidentally reach out.

"Ian," Souji says. "Just this once, please be honest with me."

It's harder now, to fake a light, playful smile. "When did I ever lie to you?"

Technically, all the lies he gave Souji were half-truths. Or easily turned into truth, if only Souji had wanted it to be.

"Eight years ago," Souji begins, and there's a faint shade of red across his cheeks, like simply remembering makes him embarrassed. Some things don't change, it seems. "When you took me all the way to Yokohama. When we watched the sunrise together, and you told me all those stories about London--"

He pauses. Swallows.

"When you asked me to run away together."

He remembers. Remembers the chilly bite of autumn night, the scent of the sea cloying in the back of his head, the warmth of the first rays of the sun that doesn't warm Souji's tears.

"Were you," Souji says, the last syllable breaking. "Serious?"

It's a question Ian can't answer, because he doesn't know the answer himself. Even now, he wonders, how serious he'd been back there. There was the job, and the house, and the rough design he made for a dojo in the basement, and he thinks if Souji had really been serious in running away, he would have taken him to elope all the way to London.

But he didn't. Because Souji had smiled, and told him that he's really good at lying. Which he had. Lied, that is--though they were really half-baked truths.

"I don't know," he answers. Sees Souji close his eyes, and looks down because he can't--he doesn't want to see the disappointment in Souji's face. "But if--if that time you had told me to take you away... I think I would have."

A long silence falls between the two of them, only filled with the distant sounds of cheers and laughter drowned with music. Ian keeps his eyes down, counts the corners of each tile under his feet, until Souji's feet enters his field of vision.

Then there are calloused palms against his cheeks, guiding him to look up. Souji, closer than Ian could ever hope since he'd decided to let him go, eyes as soft as his smile, tentative hope behind his gaze.

"Ian," he says, and when Ian closes his eyes, his eyelashes rest against the tip of Souji's thumb. "If you had actually asked me to come with you, I would have thrown away everything and gone with you."

Because Souji was young and reckless in a way teenagers are. Because he had so much to learn and so much to choose from, and he was surrounded by people who are only half-adults, still fumbling over their lives and future. But Ian hadn't asked, and Souji hadn't told him to take him away, either.

 _Why were we so scared of the future_ , Amy had wondered. She really couldn't have put it any better.

When Souji presses their lips together, Ian shudders. Like an animal freed from his contraints after so long, not knowing what to do with the newfound freedom, Ian fumbles--his kisses hesitant, almost fearful, his hands awkward over Souji's shoulders. But Souji laughs, in that happy way that crinkles the corners of his eyes, and Ian sighs into his mouth, content.

"Rin," Souji whispers into the zero distance between their lips. "Left me because she found out about you."

"Oh?" Ian raises an eyebrow. "I haven't heard about why she left. Really?"

He feels rather than sees Souji's smile. "Take responsibility, Ian."

**\-----o0o-----**

When Daigo and Utsusemimaru come back inside the reception hall from the garden, Amy takes a look at the goofy smile on Daigo's face and the faint shade of red on Ucchii's ears, and shrieks in a very unladylike way.

She throws herself at them, nearly bowling them over with the force, and Utsusemimaru splutters in panic because Amy's parents are looking at the three of them with a horrified look. Daigo though, laughs a boisterous, full-body laugh that he hasn't feel like laughing for the past eight years, before picking Amy up and twirling her around.

And that's when Amy spots Ian and Souji slipping back into the hall from the other entrance, pressed side-by-side, their joined hands almost hidden by the way they position their body, and she shrieks louder.

Daigo joins her this time, and Utsusemimaru laughs as the three of them throw themselves towards the bewildered Ian and Souji. Nobuharu, running full-tilt from the other side of the room, whoops and turns their hug into an actual puppy pile. It's all laughter and complains of not being able to breathe from there, drowning surprised whispers of the guests, but Amy can care less.

She cries instead, because now she can stop grieving.

**\-----o0o-----**

On the day of Daigo and Amy's wedding, everything is ruined.

Eight years of a team being led into paths so far away from one another, eight years of piling up regrets as if they're the world's treasure, eight years of pain and unhappiness because they stopped being brave in the face of the future. All of those, ruined, and Kyouryuuger leave the reception hall for a sleepover at the Spirit Base, dragging sleeping bags and gigantic pillows and sprawl over the gazes of Zyuudenryuu looming overheads.

It took them eight years and a long way around to finally get their happy endings, but that's alright. The future, after all, already approves.

**\-----o0o-----**

**Author's Note:**

> lbr, this is intended as a happily-ever-after kind of fic, so even if I am too tired to write this, I'm just gonna mention the rest as headcanons: 
> 
> 1\. Ucchii brought his son over to Japan and they live with King and Amy. At some point they probably did fool around, the three of them, though it was more playful than romantic, but when Amy gets pregnant, they all freaked out because which one is the Dad? Not that it matters much, but turns out Daigo got the title (bc the future says so).  
> 2\. Ian goes back to England because he has a job and he actually really loves his job, like Souji loves his dojo. They sort of did the long-distance relationship for several years, in which Ian would visit Japan every month and Souji would bring her daughter to visit England and let her play with Erica & Charlotte's (who are also Ian's) kids. Sometimes Ucchii's son tags along to visit his mom.  
> 3\. Souji's daughter decides to inherit the dojo. Has Soujirou. Ucchii's son ends up marrying one of Erica & Charlotte's, and thus if you're wondering why Uppie turns out that way (I bet he grows up in a pretty crazy family laughs) and how he's super close to Icchan.
> 
> I hope you had fun! :D


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